


This Year

by loves_books



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Or at least my attempt at it..., Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 03:13:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3365627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine's Day was cheesy, and clichéd, and far too commercial, at least that's what James had always believed. </p><p>But this year was different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Year

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to Willowbrooke for encouraging me to keep going with this when I was tempted to abandon it completely, and for the super-fast and super-helpful beta job.

As soon as Christmas was over, about the same time as the ‘sale’ signs went up everywhere, the first cards always started to appear in the shops. Pink and flowery for the most part, covered in glitter and bright red hearts. There were some more tasteful cards too, though you always had to hunt for those, with black and white photos of couples holding hands. Each one was emblazoned with a slogan, all variations on the same theme – ‘to the one I love’, ‘to my sweetheart’ or ‘for my other half’. And, of course, ‘to the love of my life’.

“So cheesy, isn’t it?” Robbie grumbled under his breath, whenever they passed a stand. “Blatant commercialism. And pointless, really. You don’t need a card to say ‘I love you’, right?”

“Right,” James agreed, though to his surprise he found his heart just wasn’t in it this year. Or, perhaps, his heart was in it a little too much.

The gifts started appearing a few short weeks later, right when the first Easter eggs also arrived. Teddy bears of all shapes and sizes, holding overstuffed love hearts. Heart-shaped boxes of chocolates, tied with huge red ribbons. Volume upon volume of love poems, and what seemed to be hundreds of different CD compilations, each claiming to contain the Best Love Songs In The World… ever. 

“Absolutely ridiculous,” Robbie commented without fail, every time they passed another shop window display crammed to bursting with rose petals and red hearts. “Why don’t people realise you don’t have to spend that much money on cheap rubbish, just to show someone you care?”

“I agree, it’s all completely unnecessary. There’s no need for it at all.” James knew Robbie was right – believed it with all his heart, in fact – and he tried to ignore the unexpected pang of longing he felt, even as Robbie took his hand in a rare public gesture of affection, squeezing tightly.

The rest of it came hard and fast once February started. Restaurants began advertising their special Valentine’s Day menus, a dozen corny romance films suddenly appeared at the cinema, and the theatres all seemed to be hosting ‘An Evening of Love’. Robbie laughed a little as they walked by the crowds at the various box offices, all desperate for tickets.

“What a load of nonsense. It all costs three times the regular price, just ‘cause it falls on February 14th.” They were off duty, just another couple out for an evening stroll, and James allowed himself to lean in to the strong arm Robbie wrapped around his waist, pulling them close together. “And they don’t even know the real history of Valentine. Tell me again, love, who was he?”

And as they walked on together, James obediently told the man he loved all about the saint known as Valentine, who was martyred and buried near the Milvian Bridge north of Rome, back in the third century. As well as being the patron saint of love and happy marriage, Valentine was also the patron saint of bee keepers, epilepsy, fainting, and plague – it was a familiar and fascinating lecture James had found himself delivering every February without fail for the last eight years, often more than once, but this year the words just felt off.

He agreed with everything Robbie was saying, of course. He did hate how commercial it all was, and how cheesy and clichéd the love hearts and chocolates were. He hated the pressure to ‘do something special’, much like the hype around New Year’s Eve and, to a lesser extent, every single bank holiday.

But this year, James found he didn’t hate it all quite as much as he always had. Because this year, he was finally with Robbie, just as he’d always wanted to be. Just as he’d never thought he could be.

Still, he agreed in an instant when Robbie suggested they didn’t need to make a fuss. No cards, and no gifts wrapped in pink tissue paper, and certainly no expensive night out.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” Robbie asked one night, when they were lying in bed together with James’s head resting on Robbie’s shoulder, their legs tangled up beneath the blankets. “You know how much I love you, and how lucky I feel, right, James?”

“I do know.” James lifted his head just enough to press a lazy kiss to Robbie’s neck. “Of course I know. And you know I love you too. Very much.”

They didn’t actually say those three little words out loud very often, and so that alone was very special. James found he had to remind himself of that over and over again as Valentine’s Day approached – they were both men of actions rather than words, at least when it came to the important things, and they’d rather show each other their feelings than have a deep and meaningful conversation.

James knew he was loved, even though it had taken a while for him to truly believe Robbie could possibly love him the way James had loved the other man for so many years. He knew without a doubt that he was loved, and that was more than he ever thought he’d have in his life.

When Valentine’s Day dawned at last, James woke to find himself alone in an empty bed, and he sighed even as he stretched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The other side of the mattress was still warm – it seemed Robbie hadn’t been up long, at least. 

With no obvious reason to get up, James started to doze off again, until a cheery voice drifted into the room. “Are you awake?”

James hummed a lazy acknowledgement, rolling onto his back and stretching again before sitting up slightly, opening his eyes to see – 

“Robbie? What on earth…?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” With a slight blush visible high on his cheeks, Robbie crossed the room to the side of the bed. He hesitated another moment before quickly setting the heavily-laden tray down on James’s lap.

James barely registered the brief kiss Robbie gave him, far too busy staring in wonder at what appeared to be breakfast in bed. Toast, eggs, bacon, and coffee. And a sealed envelope, propped up against an empty pint glass which held a single, perfect red rose.

“We didn’t have a vase,” Robbie explained apologetically as James lifted the flower to his nose, cautious of the thorns, and inhaled the delicate scent.

“I thought we weren’t doing Valentine’s Day? I thought – it was too commercial, too much pressure.” He couldn’t believe Robbie had done this, for him, after everything they’d said. “We agreed it wasn’t necessary.”

“I know we did, but…” Robbie perched on the bed next to him, swinging his legs up and onto the covers so they sat shoulder to shoulder against the headboard. “But I thought you might like this. It’s not much.”

“I do like it. I love it.” James kissed Robbie tenderly, cupping a freshly-shaven cheek with his hand before pulling back far enough to look deep into those blue eyes he loved so much. “Why, though?”

The other man shrugged, plucking the envelope from the tray and holding it out to James, who took it automatically, holding it and waiting for an answer. 

“You never said anything,” Robbie murmured eventually. “All these years I’ve known you, you’ve always been the first one of us to scoff and scorn at all the Valentine’s stuff. You’ve been the one to pipe up with that lecture on the true history of Saint Valentine, but not this year.”

James opened the envelope to find a simple yet undeniably beautiful card inside, small and tasteful and perfect. It read ‘For my Valentine’, with a single line drawing of a heart on quality cream card. Inside, he found that Robbie had written, simply, ‘To James, with love’.

They weren’t men of words, but that little card spoke volumes.

He smiled, unable to tear his eyes away from those four words, written in Robbie’s undeniable scrawl. “Robbie, this is…”

“You agreed with me, when I said it was all nonsense,” the older man continued quietly, when James couldn’t. “But you never said it first. Took me a while to notice, I’ll admit. Then I wondered if, maybe, this year was a bit different?”

James had to swallow hard before he could speak. Trust Robbie to have seen right through him, to the truth he’d been trying to hide even from himself.

“I still think it’s all cheesy, and clichéd, and far too commercial.” He did, he really did, but – “I’ve never done Valentine’s Day before,” James whispered, still staring at the card in his hands. “I mean, I’ve never been with anyone I really loved on Valentine’s Day. This year… is so very different, for me, because I finally have you.”

“Thought it might be something like that.” Robbie kissed him warmly on the cheek before twisting sideways and down to reach something on the floor. James hurried to steady the tray on his lap as the rose threatened to topple out of its makeshift vase. “So, here you go.”

And Robbie was suddenly holding out a small teddy bear to James, who really couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. It was just a little bear, not more than six inches tall, but as he took it he found the chocolate-coloured fur was every bit as soft as it seemed. The bear was holding an equally tiny red velvet heart in its paws, and James had to smile again.

“Thank you,” he told Robbie softly. “It’s perfect.”

“Now, I’m not going the whole hog, mind,” Robbie said, sitting up a bit straighter on the bed. “I’m not paying a fortune for dinner in some fancy restaurant tonight – don’t think either one of us would be comfortable with all the fuss, anyway. So, I thought I’d cook instead. Your favourite, of course.”

“Carbonara?” Robbie was far from a great chef, but what little he did know how to cook, he cooked very well indeed.

“Naturally. And I know you’re on call, but I thought we could have a quiet day together, just the two of us. Pub lunch perhaps, and a walk down the river. Make some memories for our first real Valentine’s Day together.” That all sounded wonderful to James, and he desperately hoped the criminals of Oxford decided to have a similarly quiet day. “Now, eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

As James willingly tucked in, still a little in shock at how well Robbie had planned all of this, it all suddenly hit him. He swallowed quickly, glancing over at the man sitting by his side. “Robbie, I don’t – I didn’t buy you a card, I didn’t get you anything.”

“Yes you did, love.” Robbie’s smile was soft and tender. “You’ve given me so much more than I ever thought I’d have again.” He shook his head, closing the gap between them, and James just leant in to the warm kiss he was offered.

James understood, of course, that Robbie hadn’t expected to spend another Valentine’s Day with someone he loved, just as James hadn’t honestly ever expected to have that chance at all. They really were a matched pair, the two of them.

James smiled into the kiss, so happy it almost hurt. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered against Robbie’s lips.

“And to you, James.” Another kiss, a pause, and then – “You finished with breakfast?”

At James’s eager nod, they broke apart just long enough for Robbie to lift the breakfast tray away, the pint glass clattering against the half-full plate as he slid it haphazardly onto the bedside table. Immediately it was down, James happily let himself be crowded back into the pillows, his lips claimed again in a more passionate kiss as Robbie climbed beneath the blankets with him at last.


End file.
